


Sex and Reps

by caesia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesia/pseuds/caesia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some yoga instructors disdained weightlifting, but Sansa found the isolation of muscle groups and the repetitive motions entrancing. Jon and Sansa meet at the gym.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex and Reps

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired entirely by Kit Harington's numerous workout photo shoots. Shameless ogling, moderately witty banter, and a little bit of smut. Enjoy!

“And exhale for one, two, three, four…” Sansa took a deep breath along with the men and women lying flat on their mats. During the last few minutes of class, she wove between them on bare feet, dabbing geranium oil on necks and wrists as they relaxed their limbs in shavasana. The 4:30 class had quickly become Sansa’s favorite to teach, since the gym sponsored a partnership with a local elementary school that brought teachers flooding her studio room. They were always good-natured about finding their limits, unlike some of the corporate types who practiced at 6:15, eager to turn yoga into a competitive sport. She was thankful to teach only one morning class a week, and not just for the extra sleep it allowed her.

After Sansa flicked the lights on, she made casual conversation with a few of the regulars and gathered up the rental mats to spray them down. Once they were stowed neatly on the rack in the corner, she checked her watch.

5:47. Perfect.

She took a long swallow of water and grabbed her ipod from her instructor’s cubby. Ignoring the way her stomach fluttered in anticipation, she headed upstairs to find an empty elliptical machine. Just as she reached the top of the stair case, she watched three girls finish a set of sit ups and walk over to the last open machines on the floor.

_Damn it._

Craning her neck, and hoping in vain for someone to finish their workout, Sansa considered her options.The gym had another row of ellipticals, but they were downstairs. Next to the weight equipment, instead of safely above it all, where she could work on her cardio from behind floor-to-ceiling windows that provided an excellent view of pumping muscles. She’d get an even better view from downstairs, of course, but her ogling would be rather more obvious. Checking the time again, she made up her mind and trotted back down the stairs.

Two songs into her workout playlist, right at 6:00, a familiar head of dark curls appeared in her peripheral vision. She liked to pretend to herself that he wasn’t the reason for her newfound commitment to cardiovascular fitness, but it was no coincidence that she’d reconfigured her schedule after subbing for Jeyne’s afternoon class five weeks ago. Inspired by the rush of customers exercising after work, she’d found her own machine just in time to see the handsome stranger strip off his t-shirt, already soaked with sweat from running to the gym. His hair may have caught her attention, but his body held it, even in a room full of men dedicated to fitness. He looked strong yet compact, unlike the body builders whose necks disappeared into overworked trapezius muscles. She’d extended her cool down time by ten minutes as she watched him work methodically at machine after machine. It only took a casual email to Jeyne mentioning how much she’d liked the change in schedule and she’d guaranteed herself premium eye-candy at least three days a week.

 _My singledom is showing_ , she admitted to herself as her glutes began to burn. She’d selected an elliptical with clear sight lines down the last row of machines in front of the free weights and mats. The object of her attention sat down on a bench with his back to her and adjusted the weights before reaching up to grab a long metal bar.

Some yoga instructors disdained weightlifting, but Sansa found the isolation of muscle groups and the repetitive motions entrancing. She caught a glimpse of the muscles that rippled across his ribs each time he guided the bar to its rest position. Then lats flared and rhomboids tightened as he pulled it down past his chest, the movement emphasizing the contrast between his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Sansa tapped at the buttons of the elliptical to increase her speed.

At every station, she found a new muscle group to admire. Between checking her ipod and pushing back her hair and pointedly looking at the blinking dots on her machine each time he switched exercises, she kept a running commentary in her head. _Good extension on the full leg press. Needs a little more control on those lat rows, or a higher weight. Does he do a particular exercise to make his veins pop out like that, or is he just lucky to have fantastic forearms?_ The curls along his temples and across the back of his neck grew darker with sweat.

Soon after she brought the incline back to zero, he left the machines behind and began a series of twisting lunges. She allowed herself to watch three laps of chiseled abs that disappeared beneath the elastic waist of his shorts before she wound up the cord of her headphones and dismounted. Remembering her gym etiquette, she cleaned the handles and buttons of the elliptical with a disinfectant wipe and turned to throw it away.

Mr. Curly, Dark, and Handsome was at her elbow, still breathing hard from his lunges, his white t-shirt draped over one shoulder.

“Excuse me, miss,” he started politely, “I don’t mean to bother you, but you’re a yoga instructor here at the gym, right?”

It wasn’t easy to tear her eyes away from the notch between his gleaming collarbones, but Sansa did her best. “I am, yes. Can I help you?”

“I play soccer with a rec league a couple times a week and I’ve been having trouble with my hamstrings recently. I stretch before games and everything, but they’re still really tight. I was wondering, are there any yoga moves that might help? Something I could do in the mornings, or during breaks at work?”

Sansa fought off a smirk. _Yoga moves, indeed._ Out loud, she asked, “Do you work in an office? Sitting down a lot?”

“Yeah, I develop firewalls for a cybersecurity firm. Lots of slumping over a computer screen, that kind of thing.”

His shoulders didn’t look like they did very much slumping, but she refrained from commenting. “I can think of a few poses that might help. We’ve got some time before the next class starts, if you want me to show you.”

“Sure, that would be great.” He didn’t quite smile, but he nodded energetically and followed her to the mirrored yoga room. “Are you still teaching classes? I used to see you setting up every evening, but it’s been a while.”

Her surprise must have shown on her face, since he hurried to explain. “You’re pretty easy to spot. Tall, striking redhead and everything.”

This time, she couldn’t keep her lips from curling upwards. “My schedule changed, so I’ve been teaching earlier in the afternoons.”

“Oh, right.” He tugged at his hair in discomfort while she unlocked the door. “I’m Jon, by the way.”

His handshake was strong, but not overbearing. “Sansa. Nice to meet you.” Inside, she pulled down a faded red mat and asked him to take off his shoes. Much to her approval, he tossed the t-shirt on top of his grey trainers.

“I want you to stand with your feet right under your hips, really grounding your heels and toes into the mat. Good. Now, keep your back straight and bend forward from your waist.” Sansa’s voice dropped into its teaching register, firm and direct and calm. “Let your arms drop too. How does that feel?”

“Like a stretch,” he muttered to his shin bones.

“We haven’t started the real stretching yet,” she warned him gently. “Let your knees relax a little more, and press your shoulder blades down your back, away from your neck. Now reach the top of your head towards the ground and lift through your sit bones as high as you can. Wrap your hands around your ankles if it helps you balance.”

“What are my sit bones?”

“Exactly what they sound like.” He straightened his legs and lifted just as she’d told him. Momentarily he swayed side to side, finding his equilibrium as he inched into the pose.

“Is this right?”

Sansa forced her eyes away from his sit bones. “Mmm. Can you feel the muscles lengthening down the back of your legs?”

“Yeah.”

“Try to go a little further. Ground down through your heels, stretch up through the sit bones, and down through the top of your head. Don’t let your back round out though. Tilt your hips to help keep the lower back flat.”

He grunted at her instructions, testing his limits in the pose. She was impressed by his flexibility; most guys with office jobs wrecked more than just their hamstrings by sitting down all day. The ligaments behind his knees, pulled taut from the stretch, started to tremble with exertion.

“Good. Next, move some of your weight onto your hands and walk them forward so you can get on your hands and knees.” It was lucky his head still hung down between his arms, or he might have noticed the blush that stained Sansa’s cheeks. Keeping her tone disinterested, she guided him into the next pose, circling his mat slowly, until his body made an inverted vee with his ass once again high in the air. “Alright. Can you push back further into your hips? You should really feel it in the upper part of your hamstrings, where they attach to your glutes.”

Another grunt, deeper this time. The sound vibrated through the mat and up her toes.

“Now tighten your stomach and control the lumbar spine so it stays straight.” His skin practically scalded her palm where she pressed just above the dimples in his lower back, slippery with sweat. She felt each inhale and exhale through his back as his breathing grew heavier. “Very good, Jon.”

Abruptly, he collapsed to kneel on his knees. “Right, well, thanks for your help. I already feel less tight.”

“No problem. You could come to a yoga class, sometime, if you wanted to learn more.”

He ran his hands over his face, pushing dripping curls back up his forehead, and made a noise like a stifled groan. “That may be all the yoga I can handle. Do the different positions have names? So I can look them up if I forget?”

“Of course. The first pose is called the forward fold.”

He gave a nod. “I guess that’s pretty obvious. What’s the second one, the forward triangle?”

“Downward facing dog.” Jon made the noise again, deep in his throat. Standing up from the mat, he stepped sideways, and Sansa reached to steady him. His hand caught her shoulder.

“Are you feeling dizzy? Poses with inversion can make your blood rush to your head.”

“Yeah, the blood is definitely rushing.” His thumb brushed the skin along the strap of her hot pink sports bra. Sansa heard her pulse booming through her ears as her heart pounded in her chest.

She made up her mind. “You shouldn’t be out running alone if you’re feeling lightheaded. Grab your stuff and I’ll give you a ride home.”

 

 

Whatever she’d thought before about Jon’s body, his mouth was even hotter. It only took his lips grazing her earlobe to convince her to come inside his apartment, and a trail of kisses down her neck had her asking him to show her his bedroom. Those same kisses were to blame for getting her naked, too, his lips searing across her clavicle and down her stomach the only reason she could possibly have forgotten to be self-conscious about the sweat covering her body.

Then again, there was also the adorable way he’d pulled his riotous curls into a ponytail as soon as he walked in the door, and the dazed look in his eyes when he’d tugged off her running shorts to find her bare underneath. She’d tried to point out that the shorts had underwear built in, but he’d been too busy pressing his lips to the inside of her knee.

When he began to work his mouth higher and higher up her thigh, though, she intervened. “Jon! You can’t…I haven’t showered!”

“Hush,” he admonished, drawing his eyebrows together, and then his fingers and tongue met at her core and she could only arch and gasp.

None of her previous partners had been willing to try more than a few tentative licks there, but Jon eased her legs over his shoulders as if he were settling in. He used his lips and teeth and maybe his nose too, tasting and sucking until her hips sprang off the bed and he had to put his forearms to good use wrestling them back down. He kept one arm pressed low across her stomach after that, like an iron band that anchored her even as she squirmed and twisted against his teasing mouth. Finally, he spread her wetness with the pad of his thumb and circled her clit until he found the right pressure, and she was flying and falling all at once.

He cradled her body as she landed. Her throat was dry from panting, and he stroked her hair while she caught her breath.

“Now, how did that feel?”

Eyebrows raised, Sansa turned her head to meet his eyes, dark and dancing with amusement. “Like an orgasm.”

“Good,” he replied, kissing her cheek and then her lips. “Next, shift your weight onto your hands and knees to enter downward doggie-style position.”

“Are you mocking my yoga instructor skills?” She tried to muster an outraged tone, but it was difficult with his hand massaging the back of her neck.

“Not at all. I just think it’s my turn to boss you around while I stare at your ass.”

“What?” she choked out.

“Oh, like you weren’t taking a good look earlier.”

“You’re the one who admitted to watching me set up my classes for weeks,” she reminded him, cheeks burning.

He nipped at her jawline. “And you barely looked away the whole time I worked out on the machines today. Tell me, which do you think need more work, my lats or my delts?” She rolled her eyes.

“Show off.”

Laughing, Jon swung a hand at her flank, stroking her skin with his fingertips. “C’mon, lift those sit bones nice and high.”

With a grin, Sansa rolled onto her stomach and wiggled shamelessly, already thinking of more positions to try. “I just hope you can keep up. I’m _really_ good at pushing back through my hips.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome! For fangirling fun and the occasional picture of handsome men working out, follow me on [tumblr](http://www.caesiamusa.tumblr.com)!


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